


I haven't thought of a name yet

by Pursnikitie



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, JOCK!Gordon, M/M, Mommy Issues, NERDY!Oswald, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Work In Progress, dumb boys, gay slurs, gratuitous amounts of texting, not really sure where im going with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:02:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3733252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pursnikitie/pseuds/Pursnikitie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have this saved on my computer as :  GOBBLEPOT HIGHSCHOOLAU JOCK!GORDON NERDYPYSCHOTICVENGENCEFILLED!OSWALD WHIRLWINDROMANCE INVOLVING PIZZA AND BEER UNDERAGE DRINKING RECREATIONAL DRUG USE SOBADFORMEBUT I LOVE YOU</p><p>So, like thats the direction this should be headed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I haven't thought of a name yet

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty much just a beggining/rough draft/ something I'm working on that I'm putting up here so i can read it and look at it while not on my normal computer thats been on the frits lately. Comments and whatever are appreciated if you decide to take a gander at this. Most of those tags are for later stuff being planned so they don't really apply at the moment.

“Get away fag! Don't touch my dick!”

“I'm n-n-not!”

The thick blond pushed at a thin raven haired boy. He was pale with a long sharp nose and a slender avian face. Lips trembling, blue eyes watering.

“I saw you staring faggot, twink-cocksucker!”

“No! I-I swear!”

Tears were imminent, a choked back sob. The larger boy, his arm firmly around the thin ones throat. “You know what we do to fags Penguin.”

“Don't call m-me Penguin!” He growls, scrambling to get free, arms pulling at his throat. “NO! No,no, no, No!”

 

* * *

 

Jim Gordon walked down the halls of Gotham High, helmet grasped in one hand brow creased thumb and forefinger massaging it. He wasn't having a good morning, he woke up late, and his car wouldn't start so he had to ride his old peddle bike making him miss first period. To top it all off when he did manage to get to school his coach cornered him saying they were going to have to kick him off the team if he didn't get his economics grade to at least a B. The tall fair haired boy only sighed as he made his way to the boys locker room to drop off his things.

He pushed open the door beside the gym open and his ears were met with a sharp cry. “I-I-I told you I'm n-not!”

“That's what they all say!” A gruff voice counters. Jim hears someone getting slammed into a locker.

He runs towards the noise intent on stopping whatever it is that's happening. “Hey!” He yells as he turns the corner. Jim sees Butch Gilzean holding a small long-limbed dark haired younger boy by the throat, his eye a harsh bulging purple a harsh contrast to his porcelain skin. Lip bleeding, arms feebly trying to loosen the larger ones grip. “Let him go!”

“Gordon! Good to see you buddy!” Butch smiles pressing the other harder against the locker. “You should just run along I'm just teaching this little faggot a lesson.” Jim then notices two other guys standing behind Butch arms crossed, smirks planted firmly on their faces.

“I said let him go.” Jim says calmly hand gripping his helmet tighter.

“Why? He your little boyfriend Gordon?”

“No-no I'm n-not!” Squeaked the boy blood dripping from his face.

“Why? You jealous? Want him to be your boyfriend?” Butch lets go turning his attention fully on Jim now. The other boy falls to the ground grasping for breath.

“I'm no fag Gordon.” Butch's eyes filled with malice. “You take that back.”

“Oh? Really? I think the lady doth protest too much.” He quoted the Shakespeare they had been learning in class earlier in the week. “That means I think you're lying.” He spouted as an aside. “Why else would you be so interested in what he does with his dick.” Butch says nothing, right hand swinging towards Jim's unprotected face. He throws his hand up so that Butch collides with his helmet.

“AAUUuuughhh!” He cries out cradling his fist. The cracked helmet falls from Jim's hand an he puts his whole body into crushing his elbow up to his face. The two others look at each other uneasily.

“Leave now. Or end up like your friend.” Jim orders voice cool. They put their hands up as they sidestep past the two boys. The door shut firm behind them. “You okay?” He reaches out to help up the smaller boy. “Anything broken..... or....?”

“Fine!” He taps the hand away, palms against the locker as he pulls himself up. He clears his throat. “I'm fine! I'm n-not what... Fine I'm fine.” Hes straightening out his clothes smoothing them. Running his long fingers over the fabric repeatedly, aggressively trying to de-wrinkle it. “You shouldn't have done that. I would have been fine.” He fixes the collar of his dress shirt and smooths over the lapels of his suit jacket, down his vest before landing on his thighs clad in black skinny jeans. “I'm not.... I didn't... I don't...” His cheeks turn in a violent red as he blushed.

“Hey, don't worry about it. Whatever you say, I don't care about any of that. It doesn't matter to me.” He motions to the staring boy to move to the left and moves to step beside him. The well dressed one peaks from under his lashes. Jim opens his locker to grab his books, switching to the ones he'll need for the remainder of the morning. “Whats your name? I'm Jim, Jim Gordon.”

“O-Oswald! Cobblepot, Oswald Cobblepot.” His hand wrung together nervously eyes downcast.

“Alright, Oswald. You okay? Want me to take you to the nurse?”

“NO, no nurse. I'm sorry. But I need to go. You shouldn't have helped me. I'm not.... its not worth it.”

Jim playfully pushes at Oswald with his elbow. “It was the right thing to do. Don't apologize.”

“Yes, well, I must bid you farewell James, I don't wish to be late for class. I do thank you though. Greatly, I assure you. I'll advised as your actions were, they noble in intent, an admirable trait not shared among many.” Oswald cleared his bruising throat.

“Yeah... uh... no problem catch you later Oz. Put some ice on your eye.”

“Yes.” He smiled, cheeks pinking, laughter lines etched deeply into his skin. “Good advice to be sure. I shall take it into serious consideration.” The shorter boy held his head up as he took a step forward. Jim noticed he walked with a limping uneven gait. Eyes not leaving him until he was long out of sight.

 

* * *

 

“Mother. I'm home!” Oswald called into the old fashioned apartment. She didn't answer right away so he walked into his bedroom setting his bag on to his desk chair of the small navy colored bedroom he undoes his cross tie, pulls off his jacket next laying it neatly on the bed. The vest and shirt coming after to be replaced with a black knit sweater.

“Oh is that my Oswald!” A thick German accent left her overly painted lips. “My baby home from school. Are you hungry darling? Momma will make you snack.”

“Thank you Mother, but I'm not hungry and I must leave again for a few hours.” His hand goes to cover her as it reaches for his face. A smile on his cracked lips.

“Who do this to you?” She questions fingers caressing over his blackened eye, ghosts over his bottom lip. He grips her hand halting her progress. “Who dare hurt my baby? Who lays their hands on My Boy?” Her eyes narrow a sharp glint in them. “Is not for girl is it? You have to think of school and Mother. No time for painted hussy's my dear Oswald.” She crooned out his name lovingly.

“No one to worry about Mother. This is the result of an overzealous arm in a game of ball in class today. An accident that is already apologized for and forgiven and I need to go to the library.”

“Such good boy you are, so forgiving, so bright.”

“Yes Mother, but I really must be going it is a very important school project I need to work on.”

“You will be home for dinner. No later then 8 O'clock.”

“Yes Mom.” He ducks under his bed to grab a black messenger bag. “I will be back by dinner.” He kisses her forehead. “See you then.”

Oswald steps outside onto the damp sidewalk pulling on a pair of leather gloves as he sidesteps into an alley. The sky dark grey with overcast, limping he pulls on a mask when the sun finally sets. He's outside the house lights all put out, empty. He pulls a crowbar out of the bag, hangs it loosely in his hand swinging it halfheartedly, a smile too wide, too manic, hidden beneath black fabric. Crazed fierce anger burning in his blue eyes. Oswald Cobblepot will prove he is not to be fucked with. One of these days everyone would learn. He limps towards a shiny silver car, grip tightening on the crowbar.

Raises it up.

 

* * *

 

“Someone smashed up my car last night. I swear to God when I find whatever Shit-eating Piss nugget did it I'm going to kill the fucking cum guzzler.” One of Butches friends was heard yelling the next morning at school. Jim ignores it walking to his Economics class, lets out a yawn as he sits in his seat.

“You hear that Jim?” The shaggy haired boy said sitting next to him. “That ass-hat went and pissed someone off enough to destroy his car.” He was pudgy around the middle a few premature greys sprinkled through his dark ginger hair and beard. “I think I'm gonna cry, karma you beautiful spiteful bitch.”

“Knock it off Harv.” Jim couldn't help but let a small smile cross his lips. As wrong as it was knowing that the jerk got some kind of comeuppance sent feelings of satisfaction down his spine. The teacher began passing out the previous weeks test, face down onto their desks. Jim turned his over, face grimacing at the mark, there was no way he was going to stay on the team. Slinking down he lays his head on the desk, eyes closed, fist clenched. He was going to have to figure out something if he wanted to pass this class.

“I know a guy.” Harvey says after class as they walk down the halls. “Well I say know but its more like know of. I can hook you up with a number, text the subject, teacher, desired grade that kinda thing. Essays and projects. Might bump your grade up if you use it.”

“That's cheating.” He knew an aura of disapproval was radiating off him but he couldn't help it. “I can't get caught doing that. The school records..... my transcript....” My Dad.... The last one goes unsaid, hangs in the air, suffocates him. It had been 6 years but the memories were seared fresh in his mind daily. The reason he had to leave Gotham, his home, the reason he finally came back now that he was 18 and out of the system.

“Whatever you say Alter boy.” He crams a piece of paper into Jim's jacket pocket. “In case you change your mind. Catch you later Slim.”

“Yeah, see ya.” He shoves his hand into his pocket clutching onto the slip of paper. He would throw it out when he got home.

He didn't throw it out.

He was staring at it while sitting at his kitchen table. Phone closed in one hand. Phone open, fingers inputting the number and writing a quick text.

**Hey**

He hits send before he can stop himself. Drops the phone as if it burned him and immediately regrets all of his life choices up until this point.

The phone vibrates.

He looks at it.

It vibrates again.

Jim opens the phone.

**Hello, how can I be of service to you on this fine day?**

**Nothing... nevermind i shouldn't have texted**

**Okay, maybe next time then.**

**Sorry to waste your time**

**Its fine, pleasure doing business with you. If you have need of any assistance in the future you know my number.**

Jim lets out a groan as he gets up from the table. He was so screwed.

 

* * *

 

Oswald set the phone down on his desk, shuffles around some papers then goes back to writing an essay on the great depression for Fish Mooney. She had sent her attack dog Butch on him the other day in retaliation for his last essay only getting her a B instead of the A she had paid for. He had warned her that he couldn't guarantee the desired mark but that he also didn't offer refunds. He offered to do this essay pro bono as a show of good faith and that there were no hard feelings. He didn't want word to get around that his services were unreliable. He counted on the income, needed it.

It was maybe an hour later when his phone went off again.

**What are the chances of us getting caught if i do this?**

It was the same number as earlier. Oswald smiled to himself. First timers often did this a few times before accepting his services.

**I assure you the chances of being found out are slim to none my friend. I've been doing this going on two years now and haven't been caught yet.**

**How much is it?**

**Prices range depending on what grade you are looking for. It also depends on if I need to purchase any supplies for a project with my own money. The receipt and cost of those will be added to the bill.**

**I just need an essay done**

**In that case for a C the cost is 30 dollars, a B will run you 40 and an A will be 50. For a + or – add or subtract 5 dollars respectively.**

He sets the phone down again cracking his knuckles. It was getting late and he could hear his mother beginning to draw his bath. His phone vibrates.

**I want a c+ on an economics essay if thats possible**

**Of course.** Oswald texts back walking to the bathroom with his towel, thanking his mother. She runs a hand over his back before leaving the room. **If you could let me know who the teacher is I can have that ready by tomorrow.**

**That soon?**

**Oh yes, unless you want it at a later date?**

**No no tomorrows fine.... how do i pay you?**

**Cash is fine. Just put it in an envelope and leave it by the dumpster behind the school. There is a broken down vending machine. Put the money there first thing and I will have the essay there by lunch.**

**Thank you**

**No, thank you friend. It has been a pleasure speaking with you as it were. If you need anything else in the future you have my number.**

Oswald sinks down into the steaming hot water, hands massaging his swollen knee. The bathroom door is shut, and he's alone. His eyes are shut, head resting over the edge of the old claw tub. The teens hand s rub over his bruised abdomen, a hiss escapes his lips when fingers run across a particularly nasty looking one over his ribs. He shouldn't have gone as crazy on the car as he did, straining parts of himself that were already damaged to begin with.

The adrenaline rush it gave him though had been worth it and thinking back on it now he could feel his pulse quicken. There was a thrumming behind his ears, a fire burning in the pit of his stomach. Oswald slides his hands lower, deeper into the abyss of the water, against his stiffening cock. His fingers graze the tip sending a shiver down his spine as they ghost down the shaft. A sharp intake of breath and his eyes shoot open.

 _No, no, no, no..._ He clenches his hand into a fist pulling it from the water. He has multiple black elastic bands covering both his wrists. He takes one between two fingers pulling it back as far as it will go, then releases it. The pain is sharp causing tears to sting at his eyes. Pulls him back into reality. He does it again. And Again. Again.

When he's finished his wrists are red and raw, blood pooling beneath the skin, dripping into the water. He grabs for his fathers old straight razor, opens it. Stares at the silver blade and runs his thumb down it, blood flowing lazily down the appendage. He looks down into the water at his thighs. The white skin marred by multiple scars. Some faded raised lines while others are newer and more viciously colored.

He grips the handle of the razor tighter in his hand plunging it into the water, dragging it over his skin.

 

Jim pulls up to the school a full hour earlier then normal, a small envelope tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. Not being able to sleep Jim got his car running, late that night. He was nervous, palms sweating as he walked towards the old vending machine. It was standing upright door pried open ,s lowly he made his way towards it. Eyes darting back and forth looking out for any movement. He pulled the envelope from his pocket sliding it into one of the empty bars. He turned around quickly and ran away metaphorical tail between his legs.

Four excruciating hours later, four painfully terrifying hours later, he was finally able to go check the vending machine. He was paranoid about going right to it so he loitered in the classroom slowly putting his books into his bag. Went to his locker switching a few things around, grabbing his coat. Putting it on as he stepped out the door, smiling as he held it open for two grinning girls, batting their eyes at him, then a familiar puff of raven hair with a lopsided gait. He caught his eye and his smile widened, Jim nodded on his direction. Acknowledging him and getting a flash of pink skin a glint of blue eyes.

He walked towards the back of the school. Going to his car first rummaging around, collecting any candy bar wrappers or empty take out bags, compiled it into a ball. Sauntering over the the dumpsters acting as if he hadn't a care in the world. The careful heir of arrogance, Hubris, that a self righteous teen could muster. He makes it to the vending machine with out incident, terrified of whether he would see nothing at all or that there would indeed be a packet of paper containing a realized vision of his own stupidity.

There was a packet. He couldn't breath. The air pushing out of him, he reaches forward grabbing the bundled papers. Stuffing them into his jacket, dropping the bundled garbage into the pile. He jogs back to his car sitting behind his wheel and locks his doors. Jim leaves the school and doesn't go back for his afternoon classes. The drive home he follows the street signs and speed limits to a tee. He was the model driver, no one would ever know that he only just scraped by his drivers test.

He locked his door and shut all his blinds when he got home. Searched the rooms, just in case. He felt like he was handling a bomb. He feels like the absolute worst as he grips the manilla folder in his hands. He has too take three deep breaths. Then another, closes his eyes then opens them. Repeats this process for another 20 seconds, gets fed up with himself. Grunts angrily at himself and tears it open. His eyes fall down the page engulfing the words, gobbling them up like a starving man.

The teacher would never believe he wrote this. Not in a million, million years. Though it was written as if the writer only had the briefest grasp at what the subject was about it was obvious they knew more. Reading it though made him actually understand what the subject was. He could grasp it the way it was written here. Economics was making sense to him, the world was surely coming to an end. Any minute now. He set the papers down. Spread them out. Maybe. Maybe if he re-wrote it in his own words. From his own understanding, it would definitely show he was starting to grasp the subject and maybe just give him the little push forward that he needed.

“Okay.....” He said. “Okay... that’s not so bad. I can do that. No problem.” He grabs a pencil out of his bag, a note book. Begins scratching down his own notes. His own essay.

 **You wont be offended if I dont use your essay will you?** He texts later that night. He adds later as an after thought. **Not that it was bad i mean because it was good really good there was no way that was a c+ paper. They would have known it wasnt mine. I used it as a template for my own if thats ok with you?**

**Not offended at all, no. But I regret that I must inform you that I do not offer refunds. We could negotiate a possible discount at a later date if you wish.**

**Oh no thats fine no need for a refund or a discount. I just wanted to say that youre really smart and i actually understood something in that class for once and it was because of you. Thanks man i owe you one**

**I'm happy to hear that friend! I'm always glad to aid in the spread of knowledge. If you have need of me in the future, please, don't hesitate to ask.**

Jim shuts his phone, tosses it across his bed and closes his eyes.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on the tumblr as well [Here](http://throughhaleandhighwater.tumblr.com//) if you wanna chat.


End file.
